Such Great Heights
by litromantic
Summary: Set at the end of the season 3 episode, Say Goodnight, Gracie. Rory takes matters into her own hands.


Everything has happened up to the bus ride in season 3's "Say Goodnight, Gracie"

_I have to speculate that God did make us into corresponding shapes like puzzle pieces from the clay._

_-Such Great Heights, written by The Postal Service (but brought to its glory by Iron & Wine)_

"This is my stop," Rory said, breaking the awkward silence living between them. She looked at his face, tried to read his expression, but it only looked blank and numb.

"Okay," he said.

Okay? No explanation? No promises he would probably break anyways? A part of her wanted him to grovel, tell her he was sorry for leaving her at the party, sorry for not calling her, sorry for not talking to her. Part of her wanted him to tell her everything that had ever happened to him, begging her to skip school and spend the day with him. But he did not. All he said was okay. And part of her knew that was all he would say.

"So you'll call me?"

"Yeah, I'll call you."

Rory's heart fell at his nonchalant voice. Not even a kiss goodbye? It was if he denied all they had by his lack of emotion. It was almost as if she had imagined it. She got up to leave, and saw it-Jess' infamous green duffle bag. The thing she feared most in their relationship. It spoke to her, "He's gone," it said.

She tried not to cry as she walked slowly towards the front of the bus. This was going to be the last time she ever saw him, Jess Mariano. Why did she feel so awful? If he was going to act like this, they should not be together, right? Their relationship was not perfect-but all good relationships had flaws. The point was there was something worth fighting through all the bad things. Was there, with Jess? She snuck a look at him. Brown, scruffy hair on his bent head, he read a paper back novel. Her chest felt heavy as nostalgia hit her hard-the time he had stolen Howl, the Bracebridge dinner, New York City, their first kiss, going to the book store for hours, having long discussions with long study breaks in-between, all their movie nights. Her eyes stung as she remembered the nights, the movies, and the rain. A memory shoved itself to the front of her consciousness, and, weak, she could not help but surrender to it.

_Rain pattered softly on the roof. Rory felt warm, warmer then she ever thought possible without becoming uncomfortably heated. The warmth filled her heart, lulled her mind into complacency as Jess softly moved his hand up and down her arm. She lay across his chest and he rested his chin lightly on her head. The movie had ended an hour ago and the television buzzed black and white speckles. He whispered something into her hair she could not hear, but she felt she knew what it was. Right then she knew, and knew he felt it do, this was it. What they were supposed to be looking for-fighting for-was them. She traced it with her finger on Jess's chest: Rory and Jess. She drew a heart around it, then kissed it softly. _

_"I love you," she whispered into his Metallica shirt. Jess did not hear her, but moved his hand to stroke her hair. Rory did not care if he heard it or not-it did not matter in the end. It only mattered that she did, that they had what they had. This was right, she knew. In these little moments, she knew. Aware of him and his tendancies, she told herself, "don't let him go"._

Rory stopped in her tracks as she repeated the phrase in her mind.

"Don't let him go," she whispered. The memory had reminded her what was worth fighting for.

"Excuse me?" the middle-aged man next to her gave Rory a strange look.

"I-I have to go." She turned around, turned back, turned away from away, pushing her way through the people as angry shouts followed her.

"Don't let him go. I can't, I can't let him go," she muttered to no one, to herself, to everyone. She pushed through the bodies; everyone else was nothing, all that mattered was that she kept pushing, she kept walking, and she kept trying. Finally, there she was, the back of the bus, her heart beating five miles a minute, her face flush from excitement. Jess looked up, a shocked look on his face.

"Rory? What-" As if to make sure she had made the right direction, she kissed him mid-sentence. She thought of that buzz-that feeling she had read about in so many books, seen in so many films. But this was even better, this feeling that pulsed through her veins she could not even describe. It was bliss, it was hope, it was completion, and it was fear-it was all the good, with all the knowledge of the bad. It took her up and away, it took her to such great heights. When she pulled away, she was smiling. Jess's eyes were still closed, as if he was a step behind. When he opened them, he looked absolutely confounded. When he recovered, he opened his mouth to speak, but Rory beat him to it.

"I'm not letting you go. I don't care if I have to drag you back to stars hollow, if you have to sleep in a trashcan, or if I have to get you a hotel in Hartford. You can't leave, Jess. You just can't! I-" her heart beat faster as the words threatened to come out of her mouth, "I can't let you leave."

For a second, Jess looked strange. Rory was not sure what it was, if it was a trick of the light or really him, but she saw emotion in the little lost boy's eyes. It was a moment before she realized it was happiness.

"Luke kicked me out," he stated the fact smiling. He said it not as an excuse, not to gain pity; just because it existed, and because it did not matter anymore, because he knew that they were all that mattered. They were both trying, and together they would make it.

"There's always room at Ms. Patty's, I'm sure she'd make you feel welcome."

They smiled at each other in the same place.

"You have school."

"Yeah, well, I'm a rebel."

Jess laughed, and Rory felt so good to hear him again, his laughter-it was hope. She sat down beside him and he fit his arm comfortably around her, so perfect it was as if they were corresponding shapes.

"You know we're heading away from Stars Hollow, right?" He was talking straight into her ear, his face pressed against her hair. Rory could feel his arm again, stroking the side of her shoulder softly. It was there-human perfection. It had been said to be myth, said to not exist. This was her great discovery.

"We'll find our way back."

_They will see us waving from such great heights,_

_ 'come down now,' they'll say_

_But everything looks perfect from far away,_

_'come down now,' but we'll stay..._

Finis.


End file.
